Mothers and Sons, Cylons and Mountain Lions
by Singerdiva01
Summary: A terrifying dream leads to a heart to heart and a new vision of Laura's cabin by a stream. (This was written for a non-specific prompt at bsg epics about "dream/hallucination/projection fic" and is not part of my 'The History Books Forgot About Us' series.)


_He heard the gun fire and the sharp ping of bullet hitting metal, felt the bones in his arm reverberating from the recoil and the heat of the handle in his palm._

_The last Cylon Centurion he'd seen had been a model in the gift shop on the day Galactica was to be decommissioned. It looked like the robot it was; a mechanical killing machine long deactivated._

_This one was alive, far more alive than a robot should be, and it was looking at him._

_Everything after meeting that red gaze came in flashes._

_A blaze of bullets from its lethal claws._

_The president screaming._

_Weight slamming into his body, hitting the deck and putting his hands over his head._

_Pleading with something unknown in the universe that Dee hadn't been hit and Venner got the president down in time._

_It felt like the firefight that followed would never end but finally human cheers were the only sounds reverberating off the bulkheads. He felt something heavy on his back being moved away and knew before he even lifted his head something was terribly wrong._

_"Madame President? Madame President?" Venner's voice was wracked with terror and Billy was on his feet before he even registered his body moving._

_"She's been hit," Venner yelled at him and Billy's eyes found the marine's large hand covering an even larger wound turning the president's purple blouse a deep crimson. Distantly he heard the soldier screaming for medics and Captain Adama's voice cracking as he ordered someone to comply but the only thing he could focus on were the president's green eyes, staring up at the ceiling._

_He dropped to the deck near her head, screaming her name. He gently tilted her head toward him and was shocked when her eyes lit up in recognition._

_"Hang on, Madame President, please hang on. You're going to be fine," he said, hearing the tears in his own voice as he felt them on his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, I'm so sorry."_

_She smiled weakly at him and whispered something he couldn't understand. He leaned forward to try to hear but felt Dee's hands on his shoulders, pulling him away so the medics could take his place._

_He watched a blue clad figure press his palms repeatedly into the president's chest._

_He heard Captain Adama screaming at them to keep trying and the pilot's loud, feral wail as the medic pulled back and gently closed the president's eyes with his fingers._

_"No, no, no, nooooo!"_

_His chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself and he couldn't breathe and he couldn't think of anything but the single word he kept screaming._

_"No, no, no…"_

"Billy! Billy! Wake up, Billy, it's just a dream, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open and he heard the terrifying sounds of someone struggling for breath. He opened his eyes but all he could see was a blur of grey and sharp, white spots in the air.

"Honey, breathe, focus on breathing," a soothing voice ordered. "In and out, in and out."

He closed his eyes to obey and slowly felt his body calming. When he opened his own eyes again, he was met with the sight of President Roslin's green ones just inches away from his face, wide and questioning.

He jumped up so quickly she stumbled backwards but he caught her in a tight embrace, his chest heaving as he began to sob uncontrollably. She stiffened and gasped but went still after a moment, wrapping her small arms around his waist and rubbing circles across his back.

It would have been quite a sight had anyone walked in; a gangly grown man in boxer shorts and an undershirt clinging tightly to the president of the Twelve Colonies wearing only her short, silk nightgown. He was too tall to cry on her shoulder so he settled for burying his face in the red mane on the top of her head.

At some point she seemed to realize Billy wasn't going to be able to regain control on his own and untangled herself from his body to gently take his hand and lead him to a couch. He felt the soft wool of his blanket being wrapped around his shoulders and cool fingers stroking his cheek.

"Honey, I'm going to go make us some tea, alright? I'll be right back. Nod and tell me you understand me, Billy," the president instructed, her voice laced with concern.

He took a ragged breath and nodded. As he watched her walk away toward the galley he chastised himself for losing control, for being so unprofessional with a woman who was above all the president, and concentrated on stopping his tears.

As Laura started the hot water to boil and returned to her room to retrieve her robe, she held her own wrestling match against herself for failing to consider the toll the last few weeks had taken on Billy. He'd done his job on top of watching her body fail and helping her die with grace only to see what she'd heard had been her terrifying resurrection. Never then or during the past few weeks he'd helped her recover had he ever shed a tear or spoken about what it had been like for him. Of course he was hurting and she was angry with herself for failing to be there for him.

By the time she returned with two steaming mugs and settled herself on the couch next to Billy, his tears had dried, leaving harsh red splotches on his cheeks. They burned an even deeper shade as he accepted the tea, eyes downcast.

"I'm sorry I woke you, Madame President," he said sheepishly. "You should go back to bed, ma'am."

Laura almost rolled her eyes.

"Like _you_ did all those times I woke you up screaming about snakes and Cylons?" She gave him a pointed look and was pleased when he returned it with an embarrassed smile. "Now, tell me what your nightmare was about."

He stayed silent for a minute, studying the liquid in his mug. Finally, he raised his eyes.

"You remember when the Centurions boarded Galactica and we had to run from the brig?"

She hummed affirmatively. It seemed like a lifetime ago and she realized, at least for her, it had been.

Billy took a deep breath before continuing but his voice was still shaky when he spoke.

"I never asked you but why did you jump in front of those bullets for me? You're the president and you could have been hurt and it was such a stupid thing to do…"

He trailed off at the incongruous smile gracing his boss' lips.

"That's what you were dreaming about?" She looked away, out the porthole toward Galactica, without waiting for a response. She seemed lost in thought and just as Billy was about to apologize for his impertinence she found his hand and started to speak in a low voice.

"When I was twelve my family went on a camping trip on Aerilon. It wasn't our usual type of vacation; I'm sure you can imagine I'm not really the outdoors type," she said playfully, glancing up to see Billy's polite smile.

"Anyway, my sisters were too young to do anything but play on the playground but I'd read about a stream in the guide book and I wanted to see it. My mother and I hiked into the woods and I kept running ahead, her calling behind me to wait and be careful. I was twelve and never careful and somehow I managed to trip and fall down off the path a few feet. When I stood up, I was about a foot away from a mountain lion. Her cubs were behind her and she was baring her teeth."

"Oh, Gods," Billy muttered, unconsciously squeezing her hand tighter.

"Out of nowhere my mother was pulling me back behind her, putting herself at odds with it and screaming for me to go get my father. I cried the entire run back and the whole torturous time I waited, sure my stupidity had killed my mother. When she finally got back to camp I clung to her, crying like one of my baby sisters."

Billy made a sympathetic noise and the president smiled at him sadly.

"I asked her why she'd jumped in front of me. I told her it was my fault and I'd rather die than have to live without her, have my sisters live without her. She said it was instinct. She said that the natural way of the world is that mothers die before their children and that I would understand one day."

Laura paused again, looking out the window.

"When she died I thought about that. I wondered if she meant that when she died I would understand why she had to go first. But I was in so much pain and I couldn't fathom that the lesson she wanted me to learn would be found in such heartache. I never did understand what she'd been trying to tell me until the day that Centurion was aiming at you."

She looked up at Billy, her eyes welling with tears.

"I don't expect you to understand now; you lost your mom in the attacks and I know it feels like nothing could ever hurt worse. But when you have kids one day, you'll understand why I did it."

Billy's eyes went wide and his vision blurred with tears once again. He'd always thought of Laura Roslin like a mother. He knew she cared for him deeply but never allowed himself to imagine she thought of him like a child she never had. He cried and giggled stupidly into her shoulder as she pulled him into another hug, smiling into the wool of the blanket.

Finally, Laura pulled away and patted his cheek affectionately.

"So, is that going to be anytime soon, Billy? You know I practically gave an order to make babies," she said playfully.

He grinned and thought about telling her what he planned to do the very next day but decided against it, afraid he'd lose his nerve if he put it out there in the universe before putting the question to Dee first.

"Perhaps sooner than you think, Madame President," he said enigmatically. At the raise of her eyebrow he moved to misdirect her questions. "You'll be a wonderful grandmother, ma'am. You're going to spoil my kids absolutely rotten."

"Damn right I am," she said with a pleased giggle. She'd never imagined herself as a grandmother before this very moment but the image of a cabin by a stream full of freakishly tall, dark-skinned rugrats was suddenly clear in her mind.

"But for now, you should go back to bed," Billy instructed, which drew a roll of the eyes from the president.

"You'll be a great _mother_, Billy. Gods know you've had enough practice on me!"

On the way back to her bedroom Laura paused at her white board, imagining herself adding three, maybe four numbers to the total. Not nameless burdens but bundles of joy to coddle, love, and watch grow up on Earth. Her son's children. Her grandchildren.

As she and Billy boarded the Raptor for Galactica the next morning, she decided she was happier than she'd been since the worlds ended.


End file.
